Dance of the Dragon
by his MAJESTY 1
Summary: Prince Zuko was never as they believed, revelations are realized..and now its too late to change courses, too late for shock to take place. Ending the Fire Lord's reign just became more difficult...as the Crown Prince strikes down the enemies of his ruler.
1. Chapter 1

Author's notes

So, I do not own any rights to the television serious Avatar: The last airbender...nothing at all, not the characters, places, nothing.

Now down to what this is:

_Dance of the Dragon_ is a story that centres about Prince Zuko as he lives path and identity different from that in the series; in the sense that he is barely recognizable.

And that's all you're getting...ok ill be kind. If you love the Zuko that we end up with in the series..please dont read this, you will hate me. If you are infatuated with a angst, persistently weak, 'submissive' Zuko, do not read this story. If it comes to be that you see Zuko in a somewhat negative shade, do not read this story and last if you are just not satisfied with the multiple variations of Zuko ( and this might be a small number of individuals) than here is the chance of realizing your desire in what you wish to see ( it obviously will not be perfect). This work is inspired by the beautiful fiction called _Poison Tree by _quote intangible.

The Legend of Kora will be taken into consideration too.

Now, the story begins in the third season and its first episode; the awakening and from then everything just changes...

Warning! Explicit and disturbing content

Chapter 1:

_Welcome home, Ursa_

The dark chamber of the Dragon Throne: a spacious square-like room, pillars dissecting it and drowned in shadows; the only source of light coming from the fire that surrounded the Throne itself; the flame that was one with the Fire Lord's life. Zuko bowed before the silhouette of his farther, forehead touching the ground. Today was officially the redemption of his status as Crown Prince; the day of which his farther welcomed him home.

Fire Lord Ozai stared at Zuko, a strange sense of love at the base of his soul kindled at what his eyes were showing home. At what his soul remembered. "You have been gone a long time. The burdens of your journey is now lifted", Ozai stood, walking through the flames towards his son. Zuko raised himself, still on his knees, as his farther set his right hand upon the crown of head and two left fingers between his eyes; reminded of the day of his banishment, Zuko closed them, preparing for what his farther was about to do...

Ozai, too, closed his eyes...as he poured his inner fire through his arms: the essence of his element melting into Zuko's soul and spirit. The prince himself opened his mouth in shock, feeling his father's life force shatter the barriers that had been established within his being: memories flood his mind, feeling like a lifetime ago when they had only been made before his banishment. But that was nothing compared to the power that was returning to him, his strength which had been caged so purposely, the tenacity in power the Fire Lord's lineage was so famous for. But what Zuko felt returning to him, Fire Lord Ozai felt leaving him.

The consequences of this kata was not a light hearted matter. The suppression of an individuals being, let alone his own son's, came at the risk of the dissipation of his own; to supress an entity, one's own entity had to become a catalyst to the suppressing factor. The same went for the release of a individual's being. What made matters troublesome was that Ozai had been the one to suppress Zuko's essence and now he was the very same one to release it. Twice now, his inner fire was converted.

Just as the process was completed, Ozai collapsed to the floor. " Ozai!". Zuko shouted from concern, already holstering the Fire Lord unto his arms. Worry etched deeply into his expression, Zuko spoke soft comforts to his farther; something was different about him though. The graceful motion of his movements as he layed Ozai gently upon the marble floor, the delicate concern that came unto his face, his voice a subtle arioso of syllables. The differences revealed themselves more confidently as the seconds passed by, as the Fire Lord's eyes gradually opened.

"Ursa..", he mumbled softly, something soft entering his features. A smile like daffodils graced Zuko's lips as he leaned over his farther. Pale hands cupping Ozai's fatigued face. "Yes, my love", happy: it was what he felt. This reunion of theirs, Zuko thought it was too long over due.

"Welcome home, Ursa".

**A/N:**

**If you have somehow managed to read through all of this and yet retain a desire or interest to read on, regardless of the implications your mind has surely reached; then I tell you: your soul is amazing.**

**Now, onto what it is you have read.**

**Yes. This, very short, chapter indeed focuses on Ozai and Zuko engaged in a rather...off or demented relationship. That is to say, a farther who is overwhelmed by a nostalgia and attraction towards his son's identical similarities of his missing wife and a son who has realized the only way to receive his father's sincere love is through his mothers persona...of sorts.**


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

"You look beautiful".

Crown Prince Zuko turned his eyes at the voice of his farther, warmth melting into his golden irises. "You speak too soon", he attempted not to shift his head, the fingers of the maidservant as she messaged the oils into his scalp made him aware that it would a distractive and careless act.

Fie Lord Ozai walked further into the bath chambers with silent amusement. "Do I", he said, "In a week's time a true Phoenix tail will be an option for your hair, Ursa". Zuko smiled at that; the idea of having his hair at its needed length was one that really pleased him. This short, scruffy look was unbecoming of his style. Ozai spoke truthfully though; it had been four days since his 'return' and already the ends of his hair touched middle of his back. Although pungent in its soury, acidic odour, Shèanku was excellent in its ability to regrow and nourish hair. He had dozens of bottles ordered the moment he saw himself in the mirror. Even thinking on it now, he had really gone all out on his mission.

"There you are again. Thinking so furiously". The strong fingers caressed under his chin, drawing him to look up; Ozai_, my Ozai_, met his gaze. How could the world hate this man? Did they not see what Ozai was doing for them? Could they not realize the peace that _his _husband could bring? _Are they so blind, that they'll try to kill the only person who could unite this world?_ He had these answers...he just didn't want to say them. It would hurt him. "Iam concerned", the words were low...thoughtful. "About?" Asked the Fire Lord, attention fixed. "The world seems to know only hatred for us, Ozai. I have been in the thick of it...I've seen it...felt it. They'll only throw back in our faces all we will have given them". Zuko's words were as solemn as his voice. Not once did they eyes separate. Minutes passed before Ozai responded, stroking the side of Ursa's cheek. "...hatred can only cover them for so long. Fire cleanses ...and we will cleanse away all their hatred, all their anger, their pain, their suffering. We will cleanse it all".

Bolts of blue shot like bullets into the air; precise furious streaks that revealed supremacy over the_ Rapid kata_: the continuous, acute strikes of short flame that was meant for multiple opponents. It utilized the maximum speed of arm and hand gestures whilst the lower body remained mostly in the same position, adjusted only through single steps. It was a truly remarkable feat. In the centre, where all the bolts shot from was Princess Azula. The motions of her arms bordering on blurring as she continued her assault; her face a stony visage of concentration, body dedicated to the task at hand: Azula deserved her title as a firebending prodigy.

Ending her practise in a low sweeping kick, blue flames arching away from her leg, Azula stood straight. The grin was unmistakable, as turned to the two spectators watching. "Still wanna practise Zuzu?", her tone dripped with mirth and sarcasm, walking to the left of the Throne in the room and sitting down. Her brother barely glanced her way. A frustration seeped into her mood. Zuko's sudden 'change' was gossip all over the court and halls of the castle. She didn't know what in the world had happened, she didn't know why it happened but...she did know when; _dear Zuzu's re-coronation as Crown Prince_. That, she was certain, is when her weak pathetic brother had began his little transformation. And in Azula's mind, there was no such a thing as coincidence.

Zuko got up from their father's right side and walked to the center of the training room. She wouldn't lie to herself; this...new look her brother portrayed, it did suit him...as far as being a member of the royal familey was concerned, he carried himself in a manner of someone who knew of their authority as a Crown Prince; a regal aristocratic Crown Prince. However! There was something...unsettling in this 'new' image of Zuko. Something that reminded her of _someone_ she did_ not_ wish to think about.

Azula's thoughts were interrupted by the metallic sound of a blade being drawn. Zuko stood straight, left arm behind his back whilst his other was stretched low to his right, the 1 ½ meter long Jian flashing light of itself. _Humph, have you really "changed" that much Zuzu?_. Azula thought to herself. From the reports, her brother was invested in twin dao...not the Jian. _Well, whatever. Not like it matters anyway_._ A weakling will always be a weakling_

The slashes that came were quick in their circular movement's. Signal flashes of white were all that marked the blades motions as it sliced through air. Immediately, Azula's eyed widened; the moment Zuko moved, she saw the difference: gone was that useless rage that accompanied Zuko's fighting style, missing was the indecisive attacks in his kata or that visible fear that dominated him when he had to perform in front of farther. It was all gone...and in its place, in its place there was what stirred and excitement. Azula welcomed the surprise however.

She would have killed anyone that said she felt anything resembling pride in that moment.

**A/N**

**So chapter 2, very short i know but ill try to make them longer, bit by bit.**

**Azula has finally entered the scene and there seems to be something off about her... that will be explained as time goes but! There was a small clue in here.**

**Zuko's new change!? What the hell.**

**Weeeeelllll youll see!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Royalty**

"Is this the one, your Highness?" Meixiang said, holding a long soft bundle of fabric. Her head was bowed subtly as the Crown Prince turned to her. Heat pulsing into her being, stripping her of the cold demeanour she had come to master within herself. Her great-grandmother's words rang so true to her in that moment;

"Yes. The artisan has received my gratitude?"

:_"Meixiang...the Royal family...they are beautiful..",_ She had not at the time understood what her great-grandmother meant, but now...

"Yes, Highness. Akio gave Lord Nobutang your words. He was most pleased that your Highness is satisfied". She spoke with a soft smile, thinking to herself; _The Prince was so kind, to give a personal message to Lord Nobutang_ _for his designs. _A giggle left her mouth unwillingly, remembering the shock that dawned his face when Akio presented his Highness's words. "

Akio gently folded the long white tunic at the Prince's waist, moving aside so that Meixiang could complete her task. The bundle of cloth that was held in her arms was a soft light pink shenyi with leaves at the cuff and base of the cloth. She placed it upon his shoulder, holding out the sleeves so that the Prince could move his arms into them with ease; kneeling, Meixiang wrapped the draping cloth around Prince Zuko's middle, making it so that the fabric conformed to the figure of his Highness in a roughly lose manner. She stood and stepped away as Xianma tied a white sash with gold embroidery around his Highness's stomach, Xianma's hands were nervously shaking. She was new to the Royal staff.

"Its beautiful, your Highness", Meixiang said keeping her voice low. Normally she or any other staff member for a fact, would _never_ engage with the Royal family unless _they_ were engaged with first. It was custom. But, the Crown Prince had made it clear since his return that their voluntary engagement with him was something he looked towards. Meixiang thought it was what made him so beautiful; his desire to dialogue with his people..._it feels like we matter to him._

The Prince released a small smile in her direction before he sat down for Xianma; she put a small round tub on the ground before him. Taking his feet, Xianma placed them into the liquid: a concoction of pure water and lemon perfumes, a few bright blotches of red layed upon and within the water; rose petals. As Xianma saturated his Highness's feet, her fingers gracefully rubbing and messaging, Meixiang proceeded to sit behind the Crown Prince. To her left, still upon a purple lace square cushion, a expertly crafted Phoenix Crown of pure gold layed; it had nine dragons, four phoenixes, twelve large flowers and six small ones, the eyes of the dragons and phoenixes ad well as the petals of the flowers were filled with small diamonds , reflecting white radiant rays of light when the sun's photons touched it. It had been a gift to the Prince...from the Fire Lord.

Before Meixiang could fix the headdress however, she had to style the Prince's hair. After two weeks of constantly using Shèanku oil, his Highness's hair now reached his knees and although lovely in its black sleekness, it was a hassle to maintain. Meixiang smoothly drew Crown Prince Zuko's hair to the back-top of his head , with her hands; her fingers slid through it pleasurably. One hand holding the hair stiffly, the other wrapping a sliver bang around it to keep it in place, she was now done with the phoenix tail and proceeded to take the Phoenix Crown and fix it onto the scalp of Prince Zuko. Meanwhile the prince himself sat relaxed with his eyes closed. He was thinking. Sozin's comet was drawing closer and he reasoned that the Avatar's companions would attack before then. They'd have to if they sought to stand a change at victory. Once the comet appeared though, not even Aang in his Avatar state would have been able to win against his farther or even himself. But that was not his main concern. He was trying to predict where and when they would attack. It was suicide to barge in head on. The Royal Castle was within the centre of the capital and surrounding that was the militant cities. So, in order to reach their target they had to enter the Fire Nation inconspicuously to avoid being noticed and yet still have the freedom to move around to reach the Capital. It...could be done..._if_ they had the right contacts. Zuko scoffed, startling Xianma who looked like she about to receive a beat down. The plan he had concocted sounded far too complex for them to have come up with if ever such a thing was possible. Zuko stopped...and realized his error.

_Never underestimate your opponent. _

He was doing it. But still, there was doubt that they were capable of it. They would _need_ those contacts and he doubted very much there was any within the Fire Nation who would be willing to help their Nation's enemies.

And that thought hurt him...

Because there was.

Zuko opened his eyes. Moving them to look about. "Ah, his Highness has returned to the realm of the mortal", Meixiang's jolly voice drew his attention to her. All his maidens stood in front of him, hands clasped below their navels in the pose deemed quintessential for the Royal staff. _I must have lost myself in thought. _Standing, Crown Prince Zuko walked to the mirror.

He was really beautiful. Having inherited much of his mothers physical traits, it only took a few touches here and there to turn him into a spitting image of her youthful beauty. It was still visible that he was the Crown Prince: the scar for one, the persistently boy-like nuances in his features for another. Still much of his mother remained in him.

The six meter gold trimmed mirror reflected nothing but the aristocracy of his being in flesh. That Phoenix Crown that sat so horizontally fixed on the middle of his scalp revealed his status as Crown Prince of the Fire Nation. His hair was pulled straight up to the back of his head in the iconic phoenix tail, only one bang framing the right of his face and ending at his thigh. The gold and diamond rings for earnings hung in elegance. The pink Shenyi, so delicate in its silk, seemed to reveal the shape of his lithe contorted body without being form-fitting. The white and gold sash covered his entire belly in a squeezing hug. His feet was bare except for gold dragon rings on his second and fourth toes. A blood red glossed his lips, fingernails and toenails. _She would be very happy...Iam._

"Where is Katsunieshixang?", the questioned seemed anticipated as Xianma brought to him his Great Spear. She held it firmly within her hands, horizontally, kneeling as she extended it to him. Silver eastern dragons slithered across its length, tactile scales composing its texture. The staff itself was an alloy of gold and antinium, a very light but durable metal found in the Islands earth. Silver in colour was the blade that was attached at the staff's end, half a meter long. A straight, white batch of hair hung before the beginning of the blade. All in all it was two meters long. The alloy made it lighter than a single longsword. He took it from her hands, notably exhaling as his fingers glided over its length.

Turning to the servants, he thanked them and left the room. Outside four guards were waiting, all in full black armour and red capes. He called them the Guard. They were the most advanced benders in his father's army. Smiling to himself, it had not been easy to acquire them for nothing more than guards. Ozai had not been pleased but he was _very_ convincing.

"Highness", one of them greeted, Master Wudang. His voice estimating his age at thirty four. "Master Wudang", the Crown Prince said, "All has been prepared?". "Yes, Highness". "Good. Lets go. There is no point in wasting time".

They walked down the halls, into the Grand Hall and through that entrance exiting the Royal Castle. Outside a Gold Coach carriage moved by six horses awaited the Prince's presence. The Coach was a item of exquisite prestige: its frame solid gold and embroidered with a multiple of dragons, three symmetrical windows and another smaller three below those were in the sides of the Gold Coach, allowing whoever inside a view. A man in formal clothing sat in the fore of the Coach, holding in his gloved hands the reigns of the six horses.

Entering alone, Zuko sat on the fine red leather, thinking of the conversation to come. If truth were told he did not really what to feel about it. He saw through the windows his Guard surrounding his Gold Coach; doing their duties. The carriage moved, six horses hurtling their hooves upon the ground as they ran towards their guided destination. His Guard's black horses moving in sync to keep up.

"Xinké! Wait!", the shout was shrill and vengeful; he knew when he got home his ass was done for. _Like I care!_ He mind shot back. His coming into age, being thirteen made certain of that. Xinké ran away from his home, dodging and _almost_ bumping into people as he did do. Today was the day; the day Rutaro Ming learned he was no kid you just bullied and got away with. _Yeah! Today I honour my name!_ The hype in his thoughts were like fuel to his confidence. Weeks and weeks he had practiced his fire bending. He didn't like bending, he didn't...but...he was soooo tired of being bullied by Rutaro and his stupid gang of bullies. He ran, the anger like adrenalin, to the place he said they should meet.

Arriving at a empty section of Tokaru town, it was late at night, Xinké walked to the round dais in the center; usually reserved for shows or announcements. Today, it would be the stage setting for an Agni Kai. He walked to the middle and waited anxiously. Wanting and somehow not wanting this to happen. _Please, Agni, please Agni, please Agn-_ a shuffle of footsteps paused his pleas. His head shot right and his throat for some reason was dry. Rutaro had arrived. A smug grin plastered on his adolescent face. _At least he came alone..._

"Hah! You actually came, shitface ", the younger bully goaded, walking unto the dais. Xinké's face hardened, resolve convicting him. "I said I would", he whispered, squeezing his first. There was silence for a few moments, thickening the tension. "Well. You gonna stare at me or you gonna fight me...or are you too coward".

"Ahaaaarrr!", Xinké screamed with a punch of fire from his left first. Formal preparations for an Agni Kai be damned! Rutaro strafed left, the fire bolt missing him. He shot two low front kicks, the flames speeding across the floor. Xinké cried in alarm and jumped out of the way, the flames licking his shoes as it sped by. Already, Rutaro sent two fire bolts his way. The first he swat aside with a arch of flame, the second shot into his chest; sizzling into cloth and burning skin.

"Aha!" the cry pierced the air as Xinké curled on the floor, whimpering and trying to hold tears at bay. He heard steps. A rubber heel tramped harshly on his head, forcing out further moans of pain. "You've been training, huh, shitface?", the question stabbed into him. He'd only lasted five seconds more. _Five!...Iam useless_, I'll never get better. _Rutaro will always win..._

The tears were unleashed without restraint. There was no point any longer...in anything really. So when Rutaro laughed at him, it didn't matter, when Rutaro called him a wuss, it didn't matter...when Rutaro stripped him naked, it didn't matter, when Rutaro did things to him, wrong wrong things that made him feel beautiful, it didn't matter, it didn't matter that he was seventeen and Rutaro was fourteen. Nothing mattered at that point. So when Rutaro heard the noise of horses and abandoned him there like nothing, he questioned the hurt he felt. When a man in cold metal held him and placed him somewhere warm and comfortable , he questioned the relief that came_...at least someone cares..._

...but as he dosed off, he knew it wasn't fair. His parents cared...

**A/N**

**Right! Chapter three, as promised, its longer. There is probably some mistakes...I do apologize for that and shall be fixing such troublesome happenings. **

**You have surely realized now that it takes time for things to happen here, for anything to happen really; its going to be a slow burn; just to set up things nicely. Also. It fits my writing style which iam In the process of improving.**

**I plan on continuing this story for some time. If you like it, drop a few suggestions you and if its line with what I have planned, you might just get what you wish.**

**Ill see if i can create an account on deviant art where you will be able to view the art ill be making for this story( if ever you would like that)..**

**If ya got any questions, please, ask away.**

**And with that the Next chapter:**

**Crown Prince of the Fire Nation**


	4. Chapter 4

**Dear, dear, dear readers. My sincere apologises for the nigh resentful absence I have invested in. Work and assignments seem to want me ever within their clutches. But a man shall set his time for the things he cherishes. Here, I present, chapter four. Enjoy **

**CHAPTER 4; Crown Prince of the Fire Nation **

"Uncle", the voice was barely audible...but it was heard. A putrid stale stink ran up their noses; one was use to it, the other made its existence obsolete by ignoring it. Hard bars of metal that formed a cage separated them; one chained within it, the other not. Regardless, both could not erase the other from existence.

"Uncle", it was louder this time; hope hanging with fingers on the edges of its tone; as though not knowing weather it desired to make its presence known. _Still conflicted...even after all you have done_: the one inside the cage thought; the figure appeared bulky but short in length, something like a muddy regard cloth covering its form. It lay still on the floor of stone..seemingly imitating a stature of rebellious isolation.

"Iroh", dead was that hope, pushed off by hurt and pride; the voice was as the form: stony in its rebellion; though here for attention. The form of regal arrogance moved forth, pink cloth draping upon the floor, mocking the poverty of the other's regard clothing. Now touching the bars, the one without chains stood straight, waiting, watching...

"You finally reveal yourself...", If the words were not meant for insult, the form in pink would think itself a ghost that hid in the dark shadows of the prisoner's mind. But, it knew very well what those words meant. "You seem above deceit", he mocked, because for more than three years, the caged figure had been deceived. "Your father's child through and through...I hoped for more from you, Prince Zuko", Former Crown Prince Iroh turned around on the floor as he said those words. For the first time in years, Iroh saw Lady Ursa and his heart bloomed...because now Zuko could find her-

And like that, the illusion died.

_This...is Zuko_. The thought crushed what hope he had for his nephew; this...this was wrong, it was horrible. It was sad. The only thought spiralling in Iroh's mind was _how? How did this happen? How was his nephew reduced to this..this..._Not even a word revealed itself to describe what he was seeing. "What have you done...Zuko?", the whisper held nothing but shock and fear; burdening that voice which now seemed years older. Iroh's face though; it was cold, judging Zuko's very existence with no more a glance.

Prince Zuko imagined that any redemption he sought to provide to his relationship with his uncle died there too; _If not his judgement...than his rejection.._ "I took what I wanted, uncle", he said softly, expression on the verge of numbness; he had expected many negative reactions from his uncle and did his honest best to not think of rejection as one of them: because at the end of the day, he loved Iroh still.

"Without care of your mother's honour, without respect of her image; Regardless of the terrible offence you have given to the relationship of family! Did I not teach you anything, Prince Zuko!". In Ba Seng Se, Zuko would have flinched at these words, at the reproachful tone that could shatter all sense of confidence ; at the disappointment. This was not Ba Seng Se however.

"My mother abandoned me! She left me alone with a sister who wanted me dead! The only thing Ozai felt for me was hate, he despised me regardless of how loyal I was to him! If she loved me so much, why did she not take me with her, hmm?! She ran; that's all she did, was runaway", the shouts wailed against stone walls, untill his voice lowered, softened by an emotion that filled it, drowned it mercilessly ," What do you think happened then, uncle? My farther loved her...and I was the reason she left. If i did not do what I did...he would have killed me...and you, you were not there ". Lips pressed, eyes hard, Prince Zuko hated this moment. This is not why he came here...

"...it is wrong, Zuko". The finality of that sentence slapped his soul across its face. _Is there nothing more you can say to me; Nothing!?_ _Did Iroh not realize how he was helping his family. Did he not see anything?!_ "No", the Crown Prince said forcefully," You are wrong. I love Ozai...more than she _ever_ could. It is because of me that he still knows love, it is because of me you are here, alive, unburned. It is through me Azula can have the love she has yearned for, the love Ursa never gave her. I did not come here to argue over whether what Iam doing is wrong or right", the prince paused, looking Iroh in the eyes," Are you helping the Avatar's companions"?

For nearly a minute: forty nine seconds in which no voice was heard, those seconds smeared over with disgust and resolve, for nearly a minute...there was a competition of an eye stare. "The Avatar is the bridge of this world and the world of spirit. He fights to protect what our nation is destroying" Zuko's eyes narrowed further; _He has not really answered the question. However his answer clearly states the side he has chosen._ The answer was ambiguous if you did not look carefully into it: Iroh avoided the question completely by not answering it, but; _it reveals he has not helped them, and that he wishes he could_.

Whilst Zuko was contemplating Iroh's answer, the General himself was thinking about the reason for Zuko's question. _Why does he think I lam capable of helping them. Cant he see where Iam._ Thoughts came to an end when the Crown Prince spoke:" The Avatar is dead", Zuko moved away from the cage," but his friends live. If arrogated righteousness is not enough a motivator than vengeance is".

_The Avatar is not dead, Prince Zuko._ But he dare not speak it; not with his nephew so far from grace.

Abruptly, Zuko turned away from Iroh, walking towards the exit. There was no point in being here any longer, he'd attained what he'd come for...also there was another matter to attend to, an urgent one at that.

The fingers of a seventeen year old male rubbed against the artful gold weapon. Respect. It hit like a lizard-rhino with its horns against predators. Juan Martial Academy had taught him the reverence that came with observing a weapon and here, before his eyes; Xinké would claim boldly that he had _never, ever_ seen a Great Spear so immaculate, so complete. Composed of organic and geometric lines in its design, dragons that _felt _as though they could fly off the golden pole; _And it belongs to the Crown Prince?_ The thought struck curiosity and _almost_ disdain. Only non-benders use weapons, Juan Martial Academy had failed to teach that out of him.

"What are you doing!?", the rebuke ripped his hands away from the Spear. Sharply looking left, he almost wet his trousers when the Guard took giant prideful steps toward him. "I..I was just looking ser", timid, fearful; it oozed off his being. "This is Katsunieshixang!, your filthy hands will _not_ offend its royal glory". The Guard was dead infront of him now, seeming to get madder and madder with each second. Xinké stepped back:" I wont touch it again, I swear", he really meant it, dying because of touching a weapon was not on his bucket list.

"He meant no offense, Lùjing. The boy was just in awe of it", said a voice behind him. Xinké turned, grateful to his voucher; a man in the same black amour of the one who wanted to kill him. "Hmph!", voiced the now apparent Lùjing, he stalked off to his horse near the Gold Coach, seemingly returning to his guarding position.

"Do not mind Master Lùjing. He has a severe reverence to the Royal Family, especially the prince", the man said, "Iam Master Saogê, 3rd of the Guard". The man seemed kind, this Master Saogê. "uh..yeah, I can tell", Xinké said humbly. He really did not know any of these people; all he had been told was that the Prince and his entourage had found him naked and crying in the middle of the road and that the Prince had decided to shelter him. He wasn't gonna lie, he felt grateful...with a hidden sense of specialness.

"Come, his Highness is returning". Xinké followed but was puzzled by the statement. As far as he knew, as far as what he'd been seeing, the Prince did not send a hawk- if that was even an idea considering that they were no more than ten meters from the building he was in- or had even said how long he would be. They were only told "wait for me" before he entered. " How do you know that?" he asked impulsively. The Guard turned back to him for a few moments, bronze eyes barely viewable through the black burgonet helm that donned his head:" The inner flame", he was about to stop but the boys open wonder led him on, "The Guard is loyal to the Crown Prince or Princess of the Dragon Throne, only. It is our purpose to protect and counsel the Crown heir. In order not to stray from that loyalty...our flame is bound to the Crown heir. We know always where he is, what mood he is in, whether he is in danger or not", Saogê turned away from him, not leaving though; intricate thoughts fuelling the emotion settling within, "This is the verdict set by our Prince, the first Crown heir we have been pledged to". He left then, to the building, where a black sleek armoured charger waited. Xinké thought they all appeared mighty, as though born for battle. And that they used horses, an uncommon but not rare mode of transport set them apart, however; it was the armour that did really. He had never in his life seen anything like it, not as the Guard's: metal that covered their entire bodies, fashioned in such a complex arrangement of parts. When he had first seen them, he questioned how they were even able to move. Looking at them now; _Its like they dont even know they wearing those things._ Leaving the Great Spear firm in the ground, where the Prince had placed it, Xinké moved toward them as they waited for the Prince to emerge from the building.

The building itself was a rectangular bulk with little to no windows. He had _no idea_ what it was for...and he didn't think anyone was about to tell him either. It didn't matter. With no one to talk to or no one to shout at him, his thoughts trailed off, remembering what had happed only hours ago. He didn't want to think about what happened but it was just there, squishing itself in his mind. It hurt, it hurt so badly; _Rutaro raped you, _his soul said numbly, cracking at the edges, _and you liked it._

The self-disgust was prominent, in the way he shot his head left, thinking the action would distract him, that flex of facial muscles twitching, when the hate couldnt remain within. Xinké hated himself. Hated how he felt, hated...that he would probably seek it out again; because he knew himself. Better than anyone.

Large dual mahogany doors, an iron slate in their center, opened hurriedly. The two gauds in _normal _Fire Nation armour stood erect, holding those doors still. The Crown Prince walked forth and Xinké really, really, really did not want to think about what rushed through his body. So he did the first thing that came instinctively to him, he pressed his hands to his sides and bowed deeply, for in his mind a voice of flame whispered:_ you stand in the presence of your Prince, of your pride. You dare not disrespect_. And everything felt better, he felt right; dark thoughts that once lingered now tramped into nothingness by the inexplicable joy that filled him. He felt his fire flare, as though reaching outward to completion. It urged him, coerced him , into looking up.

That smile threw him into emotional disarray, barely within his conscious did he notice that persistent flicker within his flame. Inner Fire, essence of his being, soaring like its liquid counterpart when volcanoes erupted. In that moment, that soul saturating moment, Xinké could have easily said:_ I love _you.

It left his attention that the Prince had sparked his own inner flame, purposely so. It left his attention that his thoughts had doused his fire, self-contempt functioning as ice to his being. It evaded him that through the interaction born from their inner flames seeking one another, the Prince had been a viewer to all his mind layed before him. It rested in his subconscious that he had even sought the Prince at all. These things he did not know.

"Highness", a voice said_, Lùjing?_ For the life of him, he could barely remember those around his being. So was the effects of that sacred, unknown interaction with the Prince. "We leave for the Capital, my uncle has not betrayed us further". _Please, please, please, make it stop, _Xinké cried within. It was too much, what he was feeling was too much: the strength that out of nowhere had come, the reverence that poured so gushingly out of him; he felt he would burst with love. To his astonishment, it did end, gradually so however. Xinké felt he could think without his soul falling into fits of unnamed devotion. His flame swindled from wild fire to a steady pulsing heart beat; unbeknownst to him but he felt like he wouldn't jump into a volcano if someone said the Prince wished it.

" You"; Zuko knew his name, his dialogue with Xinké's essence had made that certain but the boy would wonder how he knew. They had not spoken once. Bowing further, Xinké responded, a vestige of his previous state remaining with him," My Prince?", he said humbly, to any other, it would sound as though he had not been through an intense _voice_ _of fire_; the formal name for what had just occurred. "Master Lùjing will escort you to the nearest medical centre. Quiet! We all know what has happened to you. Wudang has informed the home guard. They will find and bring to judgment your defiler... but untill then, you must see a medic. Do you understand?"

"...yes, my Prince", the confliction within him was restless. On one end, Rutaro would pay for what he did, but...Rutaro was kind to him sometimes, like a true friend and those moments never left him. Crown Prince Zuko nod his head to Master Lùjing before leaving to retrieve his Great Spear. The Guard except for Lùjing followed, mounting their chargers as the prince entered his Gold Coach. As it moved away, further into the distance, away from the isolated building and into the road that slithered within lush green forest, Xinké felt weak; like when the eclipse occurred. It didn't help that it was late at night. The fatigue that squeezed him reached his mind._ I just wanna sleep_...were his thoughts.

Master Lùjing walked to the male charger, armoured in glossy black plates of metal. Already on the horse, he gave his hand to Xinké. The boy, just about the Prince's age really, grabbed his hand firmly as he hoisted him upon the charger's. A peculiar excitement came to the boys face... "Dont tell me you've never ridden on a horse before?"

A goofy grin revealing too many teeth was his only response.

**Chapter 4 done! Once again, Iam dearly apologetic for my late update. University is like a baby that is constantly demanding milk( milk here referencing attention). Also...this is the last time we see Xinké. His chanceful meeting with Zuko was just that, an event that just happened to occur, the boy must needs return home. **

**Zuko's conversation with Iroh. Different from what you'd expect from the Iroh in cannon. But, obviously, the cannon in this story has been slaughtered . Essentially, its like this: The Zuko we see in cannon is a false identity born from the suppression of Zuko's original identity. As such, should Zuko's true self ever appear, it marks the end-to an extent-of his false identity. Iroh realizes this immediately upon glancing at Zuko for the first time in weeks. He sees a complete, radical, impossible change in Zuko( just by looking at him) that could NEVER happen to the Zuko he himself had 'raised'.He is still Zuko, just not what we see in cannon.**

**The conversation did reveal a little of what's in Zuko' s mind along with some surprising words that must surely have done at least one you in. **

**I know, I know, when are things going to go down..**

**Soon, very soon. The foundations are being set, when this is done...**

**Who knows what is going to happen then. Also, there might be a few complications regarding the posting of the art for **_**Dance of the Dragon**_**; I just need a new and improved device. **

**I do hope you enjoyed the chapter. If you have questions, suggestions or anything you wish to ask; please, ask away.**

**Chapter 5 in in progress and its titled:**

_**Ursa's little dragon**_


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